


Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy

by CosmicCthulhu



Series: Tales of full moon nights [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childbirth, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, Married Couple, Mentioned Blaise Zabini, Newborn Children, Short & Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29566404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicCthulhu/pseuds/CosmicCthulhu
Summary: Hermione receives a visitor in the early morning and they both are captivated by their newborn son and by each other.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Tales of full moon nights [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060808
Comments: 16
Kudos: 114





	Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate all comments and kudos I get!
> 
> English is not my first language, and this work is unbeta'd so all errors are my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

‘ _The sun is rising already?_ ’ Hermione cried in fatigue and discomfort, trying to adjust her sore body into a more comfortable position, as she had been trying to do all night, to no avail.

With a sigh, she gave up her efforts of resting to instead gaze down in awe at the tiny bundle nestled in her arms who was sleeping soundly ( _unlike herself_ ), completely unaware of his mother’s now cramped up arms. And although she knew she could have easily placed him in the bassinet by the side of the bed, she just couldn't part with him just yet, preferring to keep him in her hold for a little while longer.

Not that she particularly minded all the pain she had gone through, either. In fact, a single look at the pudgy and fair-headed infant was enough to convince the witch that she’d endure a thousand years of pain if the end result was going to be so gratifying as that. There weren't enough words in the English vocabulary to describe how delightful the feeling of holding her own child in her arms.

Her _son_.

He’d been officially living in the world for a little less than half a day and yet Hermione could confidently state that he was the most perfect little boy she’s ever met in her entire life. 

She wasn't expecting to feel such a strong connection with the baby right at the first sight, even if Molly, Ginny and even Lavender had constantly warned her that she'd be completely captivated by her child ( _and every other child that would follow afterwards_ ). Hermione had laughed at them, and dismissed their statements as mere exaggerations. She told them that not everyone had what it took to be a mother and that instant love wasn't a guarantee at all!

Yet, they had been correct ( _regarding Hermione's case, at least_ ). Proving that the Brightest Witch of her Age could be wrong, after all.

A tiny whimper coming from her precious bundle broke Hermione’s line of thought, and she looked at her son, already scrunching up his tiny nose and opening his brilliant grey eyes in preparation for a louder wail.

_Not even a full day old and he was already demanding for attention, just like his father,_ Hermione thought, with a soft smile. _  
_

With soft coos and a slow readjustment of her body to sit up on the hospital bed ( _which still was something uncomfortable to do, but the witch didn’t mind it at that point_ ), Hermione placed her newborn child into her breast, and allowed him to suckle, as she gently stroked his head and marvelled at the sight.

A soft knock on the door alerted Hermione of a possible visitor, and she pursed her lips in confusion, considering that it was still so early in the morning and the visiting hours were still closed. Undeterred, the door handle still turned, letting in a familiar tall and broad blond man that was clearly trying his best ( _and failing_ ) to be quiet about his presence.

“Draco,” Hermione whispered with a smile, and her husband crossed the hospital room in three long strides, kneeling by her bed side and gawking in awe at the baby voraciously feeding on her breast milk.

“How are you?” The man said, placing his hand on top of Hermione's small ones and unable to tear his gaze away from the little bundle at her bosom.

“Very tired... And sore.” She managed to chuckle and sigh in relief. Seeing her husband there was enough to distract her from all the pain and discomfort she had felt earlier. “And I’ve gone through almost twelve hours of labour alone! I was a little bit terrified, but I’m fine now.”

“Alone?” The man furrowed his brow in confusion, and Hermione tried to act nonchalant about it, even though she was still bothered by it as well.

“Well, Blaise passed out pretty early on. And there was no one else readily available.”

“That bastard,” Draco snarled as quietly as he could. “He acts like there’s nothing in the world that can shake his cool demeanor but then passes out when a woman is about to give birth?”

“You can use it as blackmail material, you know?” She said with a small grin, still caressing her newborn’s wispy hair.

“How Slytherin of you to suggest that,” he muttered out after Hermione assured him she was perfectly fine.

“Learned from the best.”

They settled in a comfortable ( _albeit tired_ ) silence, letting only the soft sighs and whimpers of their small child to fill the room. Hermione took the opportunity to look at her husband, who was too enthralled with the little baby to actually pay attention to anything else. 

To put it kindly, Draco looked like a mess.

The wizard was dressed in a rumpled shirt and an old pair of trousers that he constantly threatened to throw out. His hair was so disheveled and wild, that it could easily rival her own. There were beads of coldsweat in his forehead and dark bags under his eyes, his lips were dried out and his constitution was paler and more sickly than usual. 

If the brunette were to guess, her husband didn't bother with his strengthened Pepper-up potion, glass of cold water and the bath that he usually needed in order to revitalize himself after a full moon night.

For an unwitting bystander, the wizard could actually pass as another person that has just gone through labour in the maternity ward. Which, to be fair, she probably was just as disheveled and tired-looking as he was.

“I’m sorry I could be with you,” he rasped out after a moment of silence, interrupting her silent observations.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still, I wish I had been here with you. Supporting you through the birth of our son.” 

He sighed and closed his eyes for a couple of minutes, and Hermione suspected the man must have been just as uncomfortable and sore as she was, so she promptly scooted over to the side and invited him to lay down by her side in the tiny hospital bed. 

When he climbed the bed without a single word of protest, the witch confirmed that the man was truly exhausted. 

“Technically,” she started slowly, biting her lower lip, after Draco had settled his head on the soft pillows, wrapping one of his arms around the witch, and with the other carefully caressing the child’s head. “You’ve been with me for the beginning.”

He lifted his head to stare at her, and blinked in silence, absorbing her words. “Explain.”

“Well, I was feeling some... contractions an hour or so before the moonrise.”

“WHAT?” Draco gasped, but quickly lowered his voice when he remembered he was in the maternity ward, unauthorized and that he had his almost dozing off son settled on his wife’s chest. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t want to stress you out! You were already a nervous wreck last night, I didn’t want to make it worse!” She gnawed on her lips, with a sheepish smile, “and the contractions were too far apart anyway. These things usually take hours for something significant to happen!”

“Sweet Salazar, I’m going to kill you! I knew there was something wrong with you last night!”

“It’s not like I could order you to not turn into a werewolf!” She said, with the still fresh memories of the previous night resurfacing in Hermione’s mind.

\------

_Draco had been more stressed than usual. Not only was it going to be a full moon night, his nine month pregnant wife could give birth at any bloody second!_

_“Oh, relax, fleabag,” Hermione laughed softly, while handing him the last dose of Wolfsbane for the week. “Everything is going to be fine!”_

_“If only the Potters were available for tonight,” Draco mused, albeit begrudgingly. His voice was already raspy and tired, and Hermione could see his mouth twitching due to pain and discomfort._

_“Even if anything happens - and I’m not saying anything will happen tonight, - Blaise has already agreed to help me out!”_

_“I can’t possibly expect Blaise, of all people, to actually deal with an emergency,” he gruffed out._

_“Stop worrying over things you can’t control, Draco,” she said with only a slight strain of her voice, trying to ignore and hide the grimaces that occurred over the occasional bouts of pain in her navel._

_And when the moon had finally risen in the sky, Hermione secretly thanked God and Merlin for the smooth and mostly painless transition of her husband._

_The witch took a minute or two to watch her sleepy mate settle down and curl up on the heaps of blankets and pillows on the basement floor, looking very much like an overgrown lapdog. With a smile, she couldn’t resist the urge of reaching over with her trembling hand to lightly caress the silvery fur of the large werewolf, feeling how soft and silky it was. She could hear the loud thumps of his wagging tail batting against the floor and this was enough to encourage her that he was comfortably settled for the night._

_Gods, she loved him entirely. Her husband and mate. The father of her child._

_“I’m going to go now, my dragon. We’ll see you in the morning,” she whispered to the sleeping beast, before waddling her way upstairs to lock and ward the basement door and call for Blaise, breathing in deeply as a way to ease off the pain._

_The dark haired wizard had arrived within seconds, with widened eyes and an expression of fear the witch never thought she’d ever seen in her life. And just as quickly, he whisked her away via floo to rush to St. Mungos as soon as she uttered the words ‘baby’s coming’._

\-----

“And then he passed out,” Draco deadpanned, interrupting the wife’s retelling of the previous night.

“And then he passed out,” She confirmed with a breathy laugh. “He did manage to enter the room and hold my hand for, like, ten minutes.”

With a grunt, Draco sunk further into the pillows of the bed, burying his head into Hermione’s hair, whispering something about how ‘terrified he was when he woke up that morning and she wasn’t in the house’.

“I immediately apparated here,” he kissed her brow, her nose and then her lips, “had to sneak in through the windows, though. The staff wouldn’t let me in, they insisted that it wasn’t visiting hours yet- They probably thought I was lunatic, considering my looks and how much I was shouting at everyone.”

“I’m glad you’re here now,” She sighed as she laughed at the mental image he had described her, humming in contentment now that she had her husband by her side.

Their newborn whimpered again, catching the attention of his father once again. Draco smiled when his wife offered him the chance of holding their newborn son. 

Grey eyes, fine blond hair and pale skin, just like his, but he had Hermione’s nose and mouth. Much softer and pleasant features than his hard edges and pointy ones. Draco could feel the emotional tears brimming in his eyes, as soon as his child babbled softly and closed his eyes to doze off into his arms. 

“He’s perfect.”

“He’s your son, of course he’s perfect.”

“That’s my line, lioness.”

Throughout her entire pregnancy ( _and even during the first years of their relationship, honestly_ ), Draco had been insanely worried about how much his life was going to change after having a child. 

He was a werewolf, an ex-Death Eater and a blood traitor. Merlin knew how many enemies he had accumulated over the years with his auror profession and the public’s view of his own past and his current condition. 

And truth be told, he never had a good role model to guide and prepare him to fatherhood. If anything, Lucius taught him what _not_ to do. The two main points being ‘ _Don’t use expensive gifts and money as a way to substitute affection_ ’ and ‘ _Don’t sign up your only child to be a servant of a madman that preaches genocide_ ’.

The wizard felt a hand squeezing his arm, and he looked up to stare at the brown eyes of the love of his life. _The mother of his child._

Because, even though Draco would often delve deep into rants of his ‘ _corrupted past_ ’ and ‘ _dangerous nature_ ’, or wake up in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat because of his endless nightmares, Hermione would always be there for him to remind him that he was still a good man. That he had changed for the better. And that he’d be a wonderful father, just like he was a wonderful husband and a wonderful _person_.

And just by seeing him cradle their child in his arms, with a look of pure devotion and love, Hermione could attest with confidence that she had been right.

“Our little Dipper,” Draco muttered with a smile, and his wife snorted a very graceless laugh.

“We are not naming him Dipper!”

“Ah yes, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy,” Draco smiled fondly. “The _second_ best name we could ever name our child”.

If he wasn’t cradling their son, Hermione would have smacked him in the arm. Instead, she playfully glared at him, straining her muscles to form a stoic frown, that was quickly replaced by a wide grin when the man swooped down to place a chaste kiss on her lips.

“We should both go to sleep,” Draco said after a beat of silence, when they both yawned tiredly in sync.

Hermione hummed in agreement, already sinking back into her pillows and feeling her eyes droop down in exhaustion of a restless night. She saw her husband carefully place Scorpius into the bassinet by the side of the bed and lightly kiss her forehead before directing himself to the door.

“Stay with me,” she breathed out, before he could turn the door’s handle. 

With a shrug and smile, he didn’t even bother to ask her what they would do when the staff found them both curled up on the same bed. Instead, Draco walked back to his spot on the bed and wrapped his arms around Hermione and let himself breathe in her comforting scent. 

And within minutes, their little family was peacefully sleeping, with soft sighs and lazy smiles on their faces.


End file.
